


Hands Off

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's wings become corporeal in Purgatory, and he warns Dean not to touch them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Off

**Author's Note:**

> Bah, this is definitely not in line with season 8 spoilers, but I couldn't resist writing about Cas' wings. And because I don't want to be misleading with my rating, I'd say that this is a heavy PG to very, very light PG-13.

_Cas, I think we better-Cas?_

Dean turns back around, and Castiel has disappeared, leaving him in a clearing surrounded by menacing grunts and growls.

As he inspects his surroundings in shock, a flutter of wings (and trench coat) brings about a change in scenery.

“We will be safe here.”  
“Cas-“ Dean prefers to be warned before “angel airlines”, but because Castiel most likely saved his life from the realm’s inhabitants, he can overlook it this time.

“I apologize for my absence.  I feared that this vessel could no longer contain my Grace.  Angels were not made to withstand Purgatory as you can see.”

At first it seems that the stars have simply been blotted out from the area above Castiel but then Dean realizes what he’s looking at, and his eyebrows rise as he gapes at Castiel’s inky black, out-stretched wings.  Curious, he goes to plunge his hand into the plumage, but Castiel backs away anxiously.

“Touching an angel’s wings is a form of intimacy, and I don’t think you’d wish to make that mistake.”

Dean stumbles, “Uh, sorry, man.  I didn’t mean to almost…feel you up.”

Castiel nods curtly and replies, “I will keep the first watch if you wish to rest.”

“Thanks.” Dean starts to feel exhaustion set in after storming Sucrocorp, balls up his jacket, and makes himself as comfortable as one can be laying on the floor of Purgatory.

He wakes up feeling anything but rested and rubs his face with his palms.  Castiel sits on a log five feet from where he lays, so he pulls himself up and places himself a safe distance away from Castiel’s sleek feathers.

The angel’s eyes are turned toward the stars, and his lips tighten before he begins.

“Wings…are not just for flight; they showcase an angel’s rank.” Castiel tilts his head in Dean’s direction.  “And the larger an angel’s wings, the higher their position in the chain of command.”

Dean, wondering why he’s getting a history lesson on Heaven, starts to comment, but a thought strikes him: the whole angel hierarchy is basically based on dick size.

“How big are your wings compared to the other angels then?” Dean asks, grinning at his own joke.

“A decent size seeing as I was the leader of my garrison.  Dean, I honestly don’t understand what’s so funny.”  Dean looses control of his suppressed laughter and chuckles deeply.

“Nothing, Cas.  I’ll tell you when you’re old enough.”  His mirth grows into a hearty guffaw, and he goes to slap Cas on the back good-naturedly.

And instead of meeting a dirty trench coat, his hand finds plush feathers.

A sharp intake of breath indicates his contact, and Dean pulls away in horror.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

But the angel doesn’t look upset or repulsed.   Instead, Dean finds himself pinned under Castiel in a blink of the eye, engulfed in wings.

Castiel gazes at Dean inches away through half-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted, breathing labored, and as suddenly as it had happened, he regains his composure and backs away to the log.

Dean dusts himself off and looks back at his friend’s now clear, ashamed eyes.

“If you do that again, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”  Castiel’s skin turns a fierce shade of red, and Dean realizes what had transpired.

Castiel had just mounted him.

“I-I…do…does that happen any time someone touches… _them_?”  He motions nervously at Castiel’s back.

“There are different reactions depending on who touches them.  And-“

“And I just made you horny.  Great.”

“I was afraid that would be the result; that’s why I instructed you to-“  
“Has this happened before?”  Dean’s heart is pounding savagely, and he vaguely wonders whether or not Castiel can hear it. 

He looks at the ground, does a once over of his surroundings, and finally looks at Dean’s inquisitive face.

“This _particular_ reaction has not occurred in my lifetime, no.”

“What does it do when other people, angels, whatever fondle them?”  Dean is quite flustered now.

“Once I felt great unity toward my siblings and another time, love toward our Father after we triumphed against a legion of demons.”

“So, I don’t get it; why were you so scared for _me_ to touch them?”  Dean doesn’t think his heart can last until the answer is given.

“They-”  Castiel pauses, deeply considering whether he should finish his sentence.  “They only _amplify_ what I am feeling towards whomever feels them.”  And with that, he bows his head in shameful acceptance of his revelation.

“Cas.”  Dean speaks in a low, gentle tone, and Castiel meets Dean’s awestruck eyes.  “You have no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

He approaches the hopeful angel, placing a calloused hand against his smooth cheek.

Dean leans in slowly and places a soft kiss on Castiel’s lips, subsequently threading his fingers through the wings.

Then they’re both on the ground, Castiel gasping, kissing, biting…

And Dean’s simply glad he learned that angel wings are useful for something other than flight.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the shoddy "sexy" writing. This is the first time I've even written about kissing. >.>


End file.
